


i couldn't want you any more

by businessboyjared



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Come Swallowing, Hand Jobs, M/M, Matchmaker Beverly Marsh, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, if you want the rewards of writing an E rated fic, you must submit to the mortifying ordeal of tagging them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22620289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/businessboyjared/pseuds/businessboyjared
Summary: Ben wakes up with his hot neighbor in his bed. Richie wakes up in his hot neighbor's bed.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Richie Tozier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 62





	i couldn't want you any more

**Author's Note:**

> title from "sunflower, vol. 6" by harry styles.
> 
> also: not totally necessary to read, but this is a direct continuation of ["stay for a while"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22590775). so its only sort of PWP, sorry for the misleading tag. also it took me 8 days to write that one and like 6 hours total to write this, idk what to tell ya! there's not enough trashstack porn i had to do my civic duty to fix it

Ben wakes up to the sound of snoring next to him. For a split second he’s alarmed by it, his brain trying to catch up to his surroundings, and then he looks to his right and sees Richie. He’s curled up on his side, facing Ben, with his face smushed into the pillow and mouth hanging open. Ben scratches some sleep from his eyes and allows himself to lay there and look at him for a moment.  
  
Last night, Ben had dragged Richie into bed and they kissed for only a few minutes more before they both started to fall asleep on each other. Ben smiles a little thinking about how cute Richie was being, eyes slipping closed and words slurring lazily together, all while insisting that he wasn’t tired at all. At that, Ben had merely crawled off the bed and threw Richie a pair of sweatpants to change into. By the time they were tucked under the covers and had the lights off, they were both fast asleep.  
  
Now, Ben slips quietly out of bed and into the kitchen. He’s nothing if not a man of his word, and he intends to make good on that breakfast he promised.  
  
He makes coffee to begin with (for himself), then starts puttering around the kitchen prepping ingredients and trying to decide if he should wake Richie up and ask if he has any food allergies. He didn't mention any last night. Plus, he looked so cute sleeping... He'll chance it.  
  
A while later, Ben knocks gently on his own bedroom door and pokes his head in to see if Richie's still asleep.  
  
“Hey,” Ben says quietly to the big lump in his bed. “Rich, you up?”  
  
“Huh?” Richie's head springs up from the pillow, and without his glasses on, his eyes are squinted so hard they might as well be closed. His hair is all over the place and there's a spot of drool on his face. Ben chuckles at him, settles down on the edge of the bed and offers him the fresh mug of coffee in his hands. Richie sits up against the headboard and takes it gratefully. “I forgot where I was for a second,” he mumbles, and the sleepy grit of his voice is almost too much for Ben to handle. He breathes out a laugh and picks at the thread of his sheets just to avoid staring at Richie for too long.  
  
He catches his eye to say, “I have breakfast ready, just like I promised. French toast, bacon, the works.” Ben smiles at the way Richie's drowsy eyes immediately perk up.  
  
“Oh _fuck_ yes, thank you,” he groans after finishing another sip of coffee.  
  
They eat breakfast in their same spots at the table as last night. It's quiet except for the scraping of their silverware and Richie's array of mouth sounds and praise. Ben keeps his eyes down at his plate most of the time, except for when he can't help it and his eyes flick up to Richie just for a sneak peek. Richie catches him once, pokes his foot at Ben's shin from under the table while he tries to hide his smile behind a sip of coffee. God, Ben really likes having him around.  
  
This time around, they ditch the rigmarole of deciding who's going to wash the dishes. Ben puts their plates in the sink, looks right at Richie and says, “I'm kinda tired after all that food... Do you wanna go back to bed?” He hopes to god Richie will catch his drift. He's too embarrassed to outright ask for sex.  
  
Richie slowly crowds into Ben's space, drags a finger up Ben's arm and watches the goosebumps that spread there. “Yeah, we can go to bed,” Richie looks directly into Ben’s eyes. “I'm not really that tired, though. Are you?”  
  
Oh, he's _definitely_ catching his drift. Ben's mouth goes dry at the feel of Richie's chest pressing against his now. His mouth is so close and yet so painfully far away. “No, I'm—I'm not tired.”  
  
Richie grins wolfishly at him and pats his cheek. “Good.”  
  
They fall back into bed, facing each other on their sides. Ben pauses for only a second before he scooches in close enough so their noses touch. Richie tangles their legs together, his socked feet poking at his ankles. He props himself up on an elbow, his face hovering above Ben's. They stay like that for a moment, just looking at each other, and Ben thinks he's never liked looking at anyone as much as he enjoys looking at Richie. Currently he’s still got some sleep in his eyes, and Ben lifts a hand to cup his cheek, closes his eyes against the feel of his sharp stubble against his palm. A second later he feels it on his lips as Richie bends down to kiss him. It's just as good as last night. Better even, because right now Richie’s lips are warm and a little chapped from sleep but he also tastes like coffee and syrup and Ben's pretty sure they could lie here and kiss for the rest of the day and he'd be perfectly happy. Ben tilts his head a fraction of an inch to keep their noses from bumping too much, but in doing so he knocks Richie’s glasses off, and they plunk right onto his face.  
  
“Oh shit, sorry,” Richie mumbles against Ben's cheek. They both laugh right away, and Ben grabs them to slide them gently back onto Richie’s ears and nose. He smiles up at Richie, who returns it, and Ben is sort of in awe at how comfortable he feels around Richie. Their laughter helps break the tension and they take a second to re-adjust, shift their bodies so that Ben lies back with Richie hovering over him.  
  
“This okay?” he asks. Ben nods and grabs his neck to pull him in for another kiss. He toys with the collar of his shirt, lets his fingers slip beneath the tag and splay against the skin along the back of his neck and shoulder. Richie grunts against his lips and then scrunches his shoulder up at the touch. Ben pulls his face away to look at him, double check that he didn’t hurt him somehow. Richie blushes down at him and whispers "That tickles," and Ben laughs again but pulls his hand away in apology.  
  
Richie sits up on his knees, straddling Ben’s lap, and Ben watches appreciatively as he strips his shirt off. He reaches down for the hem of Ben's shirt, and he sits up so he can remove it as well. He’s face to face with Richie’s chest and it honestly makes his mouth water. He takes advantage of the new position, trails open mouthed kisses along his collar bone while Richie sighs above him and threads his fingers through Ben’s hair.  
  
When Ben swipes his tongue over one of Richie’s nipples he's rewarded with a surprised tug at his hair. Richie looks down at him all slack-jawed, and Ben smiles wickedly before licking at him again, running his hand up his side to circle his thumb over the other nipple. Richie feels so warm against him, a delicious combination of muscle and fat that just makes him feel solid and warm under his hands and mouth and Ben can’t get enough. He wraps his left arm around Richie’s lower back to tug him closer and he moans at the way their erections rub together beneath their pajamas.  
  
Richie grabs Ben's face and kisses him deep, his tongue soft and shy on his lips at first and then licking against Ben's, eager enough to get them both moaning. Ben slides his hands down Richie’s chest and around his hips to grab at his ass, holding him close and grinding their hips together again. Richie shivers hard at that and Ben grins against the kiss. He goes to join their lips again but notices Richie is _still_ shivering against him, and his teeth are even chattering a bit.  
  
“Richie, are you okay? You’re shaking.”  
  
Richie laughs self-consciously. “Yeah, I’m just a little cold up here. I think it’s the altitude,” he jokes. Ben laughs but lays back down on the bed, motioning for Richie to lay on top of him. He does, and Ben grabs his comforter to drape it over the both of them.  
  
“I read somewhere that adrenaline makes you shiver really bad. That’s probably it, too.” Ben says, and tries hard to ignore how the bulge in his pants is pressed up against Richie’s again, and focuses his energy on trying to warm him up. He runs his hands quickly up and down his arms and back.  
  
Richie looks up from where his head is tucked against Ben’s neck. “Oh yeah, baby, talk physiology to me. It gets me _so_ hot.”  
  
Ben giggles and swats at him. “Shut up! I’m just being helpful.”  
  
“I know, I know. It’s nice.” Richie plants a wet kiss right at the base of Ben's throat that makes him dizzy.  
  
They lay there under the blanket for a while, kissing until they’re both warm to the point of overheating, touching and grinding against each other lazily. Richie starts to kiss his way down Ben’s neck and chest, stops to suck at one of his nipples in revenge. He continues lower, kissing along the trail of hair that disappears beneath his sweats. Ben pushes the blanket off of them so he can watch as Richie rolls his tongue over one of his hipbones, hooks a finger into his waistband and looks up at him.  
  
“Can I take these off?" he asks, and Ben gets goosebumps at the way his lips brush against his skin with the words.  
  
He swallows dryly and nods. Richie drags Ben's sweatpants down his legs and tosses them on the floor, then stands up and shucks his own. Before he can crawl back to his spot between Ben's legs, Ben reaches down, while he still has the courage, and pushes his briefs down his hips and kicks them off. He laughs a little at the way Richie's eyes go wide, feeling equal parts sexy and self-conscious. Maybe 60/40.  
  
Richie kicks his underwear off in turn and rejoins him on the bed. He kisses him deep once more before he gets back to what he was doing. Ben watches him kiss and nip at his hipbones, inching closer toward his dick and then backing away at the last second. It makes Ben groan in frustration but he finds he really likes the teasing. Especially the way Richie looks up at him from beneath his lashes, his eyes all dark and smiling up at Ben like he wants to take a bite out of him.  
  
Richie moves his head lower, teasingly nips and bites at Ben’s inner thighs and he can’t help the way his hips buck up at the sensation. Ben brings one hand to the top of Richie’s head, just to steady himself in his thick hair.  
  
Right as Ben’s about to plead for more, Richie slips his mouth around the tip of Ben’s cock and he's pretty sure it makes him see stars.  
  
“Oh _ffffuck_ ," his hand grips Richie’s hair harder on instinct, and he groans low in his throat at the way his tugging spurs Richie on to take more of him into his mouth.  
  
Richie's tongue laves over the tip, the sides of his dick. He grips the base of him with his right hand while the fingertips of his left bite into the soft flesh of Ben's inner thigh, pushing his legs wide and with enough strength to keep him spread open. Richie's going to town on him, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue around all that he can fit in his mouth, and Ben lets out an embarrassing whine when he pulls off without warning.  
  
His face is flushed and he's a little out of breath, and Ben can't stop staring at his lips.  
  
“Sorry, I just realized—" Richie removes his hand from Ben's dick with what looks like a great amount of effort, but it takes even more effort on Ben's part to listen to what he's saying and not just beg him for more. “I didn't actually ask if you like this, is this okay?”  
  
Ben looks down at him like he has three heads. He laughs and throws his arms to his sides helplessly. “I appreciate your concern. I really do. But," he leans up on his elbows then and nods at his dick, which is still painfully hard and straining for attention. “Is it not already obvious how much I like this? Please keep going.”  
  
Richie snorts out a laugh and grabs his dick again, strokes him with a slow teasing pace while Ben sighs in relief. “Okay, fair. Just thought I’d check in.” He then licks a flat stripe from the base of Ben's cock to the tip. Ben squeezes his eyes shut so tightly he can feel a few tears leaking out of the corners.  
  
“Jesus, _Rich_. Feels really good," he gasps out. Ben opens his eyes again just in time to see his dick slide out of Richie’s mouth almost all the way, the tip of it resting on the flat of his tongue. Richie catches his eye and winks at him, then slaps his dick against his tongue once, twice, three times and Ben has to close his eyes again to keep himself from coming on the spot. Richie pulls off completely and goes back to stroking all of him with his hand.  
  
“You like that?” Richie watches Ben squirm under him, his abs clenching in an effort to keep his hips still. Ben loves how husky his voice has gotten. His question sounds like dirty talk, but he can tell Richie is genuinely curious and eager to make Ben feel good.  
  
“Yeah, yeah— _god_ ,”  
  
Ben opens his eyes again to watch Richie. The magic he's working on his dick is slowly taking his entire brain apart, but he has enough of his mind left to appreciate the way the muscles in Richie's forearm flex with every stroke, how his eyes flutter closed when he takes Ben in his mouth again, like he's getting more pleasure out of it than Ben is. It's really fucking hot, and Ben feels his gut tense up, flushing with heat all over.  
  
“Rich—Richie, I'm really close, _fuck_ ,” Ben sighs and tucks his fingers into Richie’s hair again.  
  
Richie keeps going, gets Ben even further into his mouth while he just thrashes and whines above him. He pulls off again, and god he is _really_ good at unintentionally edging Ben and it’s kind of driving him crazy. Richie pats his hip to get his attention.  
  
“Do you want to, um...” his voice is hoarse from going down on Ben and it definitely makes his dick twitch in Richie’s hand. “You can come in my mouth, if you want.” he says, and Ben wants to laugh at how embarrassed he looks at saying it out loud, but he’s definitely too turned on to do so.  
  
All he can manage to do is whine and nod frantically, and it doesn’t take more than a few extra strokes of Richie’s hand and tongue for him to come, his hips almost leaving the bed with the force of it. Richie works him through it, humming around him and petting his thighs while he watches Ben fall apart beneath him.  
  
Ben stares at the ceiling without actually seeing anything. He's pretty sure his eyes are crossed right now. His chest is heaving and trying to catch his breath when he faintly registers Richie crawling up the bed, and then he starts giggling from somewhere next to him.  
  
“That was really hot,” Richie sighs and nips at Ben's ear.  
  
Ben snorts at that. “Thanks,” he paws at Richie weakly, wants to touch him wherever he can manage. “Gimme a sec to recoup and I’ll take care of you. I think you sucked all the brain matter right out of my dick.”  
  
Richie laughs into Ben’s shoulder. “Does that make me a zombie, then? Cuz I ate your brains?” he wheezes out a laugh when Ben shoves weakly at his chest, nose scrunched up in fake disgust.  
  
“Richie! Oh my god,” he laughs and then catches Richie off guard by rolling over and settling on top of his thighs.  
  
Richie's laugh dies in his throat as he watches Ben reach down to touch him, his fingertips trailing down his stomach to rub and tease at the head of his dick. He smooths his hand down to the base of him and squeezes him gently on the way back up, his eyes trained on Richie the whole time as he keens under him.  
  
He leans down over him, one elbow holding him up while his hand moves between them at the same slow pace. “This okay?" he asks against Richie's cheek.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, it's—shit..." Richie grips at Ben's shoulder when he twists his wrists a certain way. “Can you—do you, uh...”  
  
Ben stops what he's doing. “What? What's up?”  
  
Richie huffs out an exasperated sigh. “I just—do you like, have lube or anything... it's really good I promise it's just... too... dry—don’t laugh at me, come on!" he squawks.  
  
Ben swings his legs off the bed and rummages through the drawer in his nightstand. “I’m not laughing _at_ you, I’m laughing _with_ you.” He returns to Richie’s lap with a bottle of lube, and Richie pointedly avoids trying to judge how empty or full it is. Which isn’t exactly hard to do when starts Ben warming up some lube in his palm and then wraps his big hand around Richie. Ben hums at the way Richie's breath stutters at the touch. “That better?”  
  
Richie nods and bites his lip against a moan. Ben grabs Richie’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, lets his thumb drag down ever so slightly so that Richie’s bottom lip releases from between his teeth. A sound punches out of him, like a mix between a laugh and a scoff, like he can’t believe what’s happening to him right now, and Richie says as much.  
  
“God, Ben, your fucking—hands,” he whimpers when Ben grips him tighter and twists his wrist again. “I’ve been missing out. Are hand jobs good again?” he asks incredulously.  
  
Ben’s ears get hot but he grins at Richie as smugly as he can. “Only from me,” he tosses in a wink for good measure.  
  
Richie groans loudly and throws his head back into the pillow, his hands gripping at the sheets. “God, you’re hot. Smug satisfaction is definitely a good look on you. _Fuck!_ Fuck, keep going, please, please—”  
  
Ben jerks him faster, his eyes glued to Richie’s face as he nears his orgasm. The veins in his neck are straining with effort, his eyes squeezed shut while his jaw works to gasp for air. Ben grabs one of his hands fisted tight into the sheets and lifts it to his lips, kisses his palm sweetly and then sucks two fingers into his mouth. Richie’s eyes are wide open now, watching Ben lick around the pads of his fingers. After a minute he lets them fall from his mouth and Richie can’t stand how sexy he is, even when he’s acting like he’s embarrassed at his behavior in the heat of the moment.  
  
“I’ve got you, Rich, c’mon,” Ben grunts, turns his face to Richie’s palm still pressed against his cheek and kisses it again. “I’ve got you.”  
  
Richie comes at the words, spilling into Ben’s hand and onto his stomach. He feels like a puppet whose strings just got cut, his whole body going limp after being strung up and wound as tight as a bow since breakfast. Ben strokes him through it, says something about a washcloth and then he disappears. Richie doesn’t bother to open his eyes to follow where he’s going, nor does he ask for clarification, because his brains not working anyway and all that matters is Ben is no longer on top of him and he’s very cold again.  
  
Ben returns to his lap moments later and starts wiping Richie’s belly down with a warm towel. He hands him a glass of water, too, and Richie doesn’t trust himself not to cry at such a small gesture so he just chugs half of it gratefully and hands the glass back to Ben, who takes a few sips of his own and sets it on his nightstand. He finishes wiping them both clean and tosses the towel on the floor.  
  
Richie opens his arms wide and makes grabby hands for Ben. He smiles and moves in close, tucks himself into Richie’s side and rests his head on his chest. They lie there quietly for a few minutes, mostly because Richie’s still fighting to catch his breath.  
  
When he finally does, Richie lets out a low whistle. “Well, that was really fucking good, right?”  
  
Ben laughs and nods. He’s close to falling back asleep when he hears his phone chime on his nightstand, at the exact same time Richie’s phone buzzes from the pocket of his jeans across the room.  
  
“That was weird," Ben says and sits up to check his phone.  
  
“Probably just a weather alert or something? I’m going back to sleep.” He closes his eyes again and then hears Ben mutter, “Oh, _christ_.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Ben shows him a text from Beverly Marsh, in a group chat between her, Ben, and Richie. It reads: _have u guys fucked yet or do i need to come down there and rub your dicks together myself?_  
  
Richie stares blankly at the screen, unable to process any of it. “I know what these words mean separately but why is _my_ friend texting them to _you_?”  
  
Ben rubs at his neck. “Well, funny thing is… she's my friend too? And I told her about my crush on you, and she took it upon herself to get you over here. So it wasn't actually me that sent you that text about needing sugar. And I’m really sorry that I didn’t tell you that last night.”  
  
Richie stares at him while Ben gets it all out in a rush of breath. When he's done, he just grins at him and shrugs. “Tell ole Bev I said thanks, then. I'll be sending her a fruit basket every day for the next six months, _that's_ how much I appreciate her for getting me to this exact spot." He points at the bed for emphasis and Ben loves how extremely dorky he’s being right now, even while buck naked.  
  
Ben cuddles up close to him again and says “I'll do you one better," before pointing the camera at the two of them in bed. He keeps their dicks out of the picture, obviously, even though Richie insists Bev would find it funny. The worst part is they both know he’s right.  
  
Ben sends the picture to their group chat and then tosses his phone in the direction of his nightstand. He doesn’t know or care what time it is, just hugs Richie closer and lets his eyes fall shut.  
  
They wake up sometime later to a handful of texts from Bev, all of them saying some variation of _FINALLY!!!!!!_ and _UR WELCOME BABES_ with a few confetti and eggplant emojis thrown in for good measure.


End file.
